


Couple Counseling

by mific



Category: Othello - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fanfiction, Jealousy, Male Character of Color, Therapy, Trust Issues, marriage problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8368543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific
Summary: It's a requirement, if Othello wants to save his career and his marriage.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meatball42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/gifts), [mamculuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamculuna/gifts).



> Written for the 2016 Stage of Fools challenge, as a Madness treat for mamculuna and Meatball42.

 

 

"I'm largely here to help you communicate," Ruth said. "The fact that you've come here for counseling is a very important first step, so congratulations, both of you." Not that they'd had much choice—the army had ordered General Othello into therapy if he wanted to avoid a military tribunal. Only the fact that his wife hadn't pressed charges after the assault had protected him.

They stared back at her, faces schooled to blank façades. Ruth was an experienced counselor, but it was somewhat intimidating working with a Brigadier General. She knew very well, however, that high-ranking officers had marital problems just like anyone else. Probably more so.

"Now, General Othello, Mrs. Othello. How would you prefer to be addressed?"

The general waved his hand impatiently. "Othello is fine."

"Des," his wife said. "Short for Desdemona."

"And I'm Ruth. So, to start with, I want each of you to tell me what you like _best_ about each other."

The general frowned. "I thought this was to talk out our problems?"

"Yes of course," Ruth said. "But I've found it helps to begin with something more positive. Des?"

She glanced quickly at her husband. "He's very strong and intense—you know, being a military man. I felt safe with him. And he had the _best_ stories."

Ruth raised an eyebrow at Othello, who looked pained. "Her gentleness. She's very sweet." He looked away. "Too sweet for me."

"Of course, all that strength and intensity turned out to be not such a great thing after all," Desdemona added, unhappily.

"Yeah? Well, I guess gentleness can be damn close to weakness, sometimes," Othello retorted. It was hard to tell with his dark skin, but Ruth thought he'd flushed angrily.

She made calming motions with her hands. "Let's just hold off on the accusations for a bit. I'd like you each to tell me what your goals are for the counseling. Othello?"

He inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself. "Things have gotten . . . messed up. We need to sort it out."

Des rolled her eyes. "If by 'messed up' you mean you almost suffocated me, then, sure, let's focus on that! You need to get over this irrational jealously—there was nothing going on with Cassio!"

Othello's mouth was a hard line. "Didn't look that way to me," he said, avoiding her gaze.

"Now let's just—" Ruth tried, but they were off.

"Ottie, I _told_ you! It was that Iago creep. He's a con artist, stirring up trouble because you passed him over for promotion."

"So that _wasn't_ your handkerchief?"

"You know it was, but I didn't leave it in Cassio's room! Iago planted it there to make you jealous."

"I don't buy it, Des. Why would he try to set things up to make it seem like you were having an affair with Cassio?"

"I don't know—he's a psychopath! I guess he knew you'd overreact and he hoped you'd be dishonorably discharged or something—which you very nearly were. Look, Ottie, it all happened so fast, one thing after another, and right after we eloped."

"You eloped?" Ruth felt she'd been looking from one to the other of them like a tennis match.

"Well, we got married fast," Othello said. "On an impulse."

Desdemona leaned forward confidingly. "We fell in love," she told Ruth. "Daddy was furious."

"He accused me of drugging and kidnapping you!" Othello said, hands clenched on the arms of his chair.

"It's just, he's protective, you know?" Desdemona glanced nervously at Othello. "I was always his little girl—he didn't expect me to go against him." Ruth wondered if Des had found another father-figure in her general, but they weren't here for psychoanalysis.

"And I'm black, of course. Let's not forget _that_ ," Othello muttered angrily.

"Daddy's not a racist, well, he's not _too_ bad," Desdemona amended. Her naive honesty was rather endearing, Ruth thought. Beside her, Othello sank his face into his hands and shook his head. Desdemona appealed to him. "It was those bastards in your company, Roderigo and Iago. They got Daddy all worked up, said you were an old black ram and lascivious and all that. Of course he was upset."

Othello held up a warding hand. "Leave it. You told him where to get off and our marriage's legal; there's nothing he can do even if he does hate my guts." He raised his head and looked at her. "I just don't know if we still _got_ a marriage any more, Des."

"You don't want me any more, Ottie?" Her eyes filled with tears. Ruth pushed the box of tissues toward her.

Othello looked away and swallowed. "Jesus, kiddo. How can you say that? I half stifled you with a pillow! I'd die for you, but I tried to kill you!" He glared down at his hands, which were clenched into fists in his lap. He looked like he wanted to cut them off.

"You wouldn't've killed me, Ottie," Desdemona said softly. "I was scared, but I knew that much. It was those bastards, especially Iago. They got you all turned around." Her face took on a fierce cast for a moment. "I'm glad they arrested him once they realized what he was doing. I hope they court martial him."

"All right, let's take a pause and review things," Ruth said. "I'm picking up on trust issues and anger issues here."

"He does find it hard to trust," Des said, nodding. "Because he's a soldier, and y'know, he didn't have an easy time of it when he was young."

"Well, you're _too_ damn trusting, Des," Othello said, frowning at her. "You're always trying to please people. You gotta stand up for yourself more—you ain't a kid anymore." He blew out a breath. "Christ, listen to me. I'm the main one tried to hurt you. Yeah, I got anger issues, in spades. You'd be better off without me."

"Don't you _say_ that, Ottie." She turned and slid her small hand into his larger one, squeezing it. "Don't you _ever_ say that."

"You're too good for me, kiddo," Othello said softly, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it. "That's for sure."

After a while, Ruth cleared her throat. Best to wrap the session up now—she didn't think they were likely to do any more work today. "Right," she said briskly. "Well, I think we've made a very good start. I'll see you both at the same time next week. They were still gazing into each others' eyes and it wasn't clear that they'd heard her.

After she'd shooed them out of the office, she got a cup of coffee and sipped it while making her notes. The marriage was basically sound—all that intensity on both sides was a good sign. They'd come close to tragedy, but with help, Ruth thought they could overcome it. There was a lot to work through, though, what with the pressures on military marriages, the mixed-race issue and the age difference, not to mention both their backgrounds. Still, she had a good feeling about them: they'd make it.

Time for her three o'clock. Ruth sighed, toggled the intercom to her secretary and braced herself. "Marjorie—send in Petruchio and Kate, please."

 

~~ the end ~~

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so it's a tiny bit of a crossover with _Taming of the Shrew_ as well!


End file.
